Autobots, Assemble! One-Shot: Knocking On the Allspark's Door
by MiniKoontzy
Summary: Tony had just about had enough of waiting. He'd waited for as long as he thought was considered polite. Now, he wants some answers. What had happened to Optimus during the assault on Darkmount? Why did he look so different now? The armored Avenger is no longer content with the mystery. And he is not about to take "No" for an answer. *Might stay up; we'll see. I like this one.*


**Autobots, Assemble!**

 **One-Shot: Knocking On the Allspark's Door**

 _*Note: Takes place after "Endgame: Part One and Two" but before "A Call to Arms."_

 _*Warning: Dialogue Heavy_

* * *

"Okay, big guy. I have put off this interrogation as long as I thought polite. I am not holding it off any longer. You owe me an answer."

Optimus did his best to ignore the armored Avenger busy hovering by the side of his helm like the world's biggest mosquito. He tried to ignore the question despite his morals screaming at him to not hide anything from his allies. He tried to ignore the sharp pain in his spark that was now a constant reminder of his near demise in the caverns. He tried as hard as he could to pretend like he hadn't heard Tony ask that question, to pretend the inventor simply wasn't there.

The topic he was busy researching – mythological creatures from around the world – helped with that task. It was a very interesting topic, one that seemed to evolve even in the modern era. Many of the monsters of ancient days shared certain characteristics with Predacons, such as glowing eyes and shape-changing. He was most interested in the Egyptian deities, as they shared traits both humanoid and bestial, much like Predacons in bipedal form; they also had tempers that matched, but would help humans if given the proper respect. Predacons were a proud lot that more often than not let their arrogance to the talking.

Thoth, the god of wisdom, seemed like the most reasonable and helpful of the extensive pantheon from what he read. He had taught the Egyptians how to make papyrus and write. Out of the group it was Sehkmet was the most animalistic: powerful, quick to flare, and violent beyond words. She was depicted as a bloodthirsty lion. Yet her alter ego, Hathor, was much gentler and more benign. Rather a goddess of war, she was seen in that form as a mother goddess. Often she was shown as a cow or a woman with a cow's head. Hm. Might that be the first implied case of a personality disorder, or perhaps a triple changer? Interesting in itself. Those two traits frequently shared a relationship among modern Cybertronians. Why not Predacons, too?

But in the end the research was a distraction and nothing more. His conscience kept pestering him, whispering to him in the back of his mind that keeping information from someone was no better than lying to their face. Because in the grand scheme of things Tony was right – he did owe him an answer. He just...didn't want to talk about what happened. It might cause a panic. Besides, it had all turned out well. He had survived in the end, hadn't he? Without the upgrades Predaking would no doubt have slaughtered him with ease.

It was also hard to ignore the constant thrum of the armor's propulsion systems. The noise wasn't loud, but it was still enough to slightly aggravate him and make him lose concentration, forcing him to reread the same sentence thrice over.

"Did you even – Optimus Prime, are you _ignoring me_?"

Tony grew annoyed enough with his curiously ignorant behavior and flew in front of the screen. He hovered there, arms crossed over his chest in the manner of a scolding parent as Jarvis toyed with the stabilizer flaps to keep him level. He kept the faceplate down, the stern, expressionless mask further serving his purpose of revealing his crossness.

"Prime, jetpacks don't grow on trees. And you certainly don't get a physical makeover like yours out of the blue! What aren't you telling me? Don't make me ask Simmons and Pym to develop an Autobot truth serum. 'Cause I can and I will. I ain't afraid to use it, either."

His digits slowly stopped typing. For a moment his optics stayed locked to the screen as he finished a sentence located just under the Avenger's arm. Then, with a faint sigh, his helm hung. He darkened the screen with a touch of a key. He was not getting out of this. Tony was too persistently curious to let something like this go. And Tony was open-minded enough to accept what had happened. The man understood that Cybertronian spiritual beliefs were simply science seeded with mysticism, and that death was something not even a mechanical race could escape. At least, he hoped he did...otherwise this would be a very awkward conversation.

"I will answer your question, Stark. I owe you that much." said the Prime softly.

Star began in a sarcastic manner: "Yep. I'll ring Simmons up right now and get her to –" He cut himself off as his brain corrected him. "Wait what? You will? Seriously?"

The Prime looked over to the small lounge on the catwalks where the three children were laughing and smiling as Dr. Banner – no longer the Hulk for the time being – attempted to best Captain Rogers in an arm-wrestling match. Banner appeared to be losing horribly, as the soldier's arm looked to be rooted in place while the scrawnier man put all his effort into the push. Rogers didn't even look to be trying, but he was smiling and laughing and urging his opponent to try harder. He knew he could do it! Just keep at it! His arm was bound to tire at some point in the next hour or so.

Smokescreen watched the one-handed battle with a huge grin. Bumblebee was at his side, also grinning like a lunatic at the hysterically uneven battle. With the other Autobots on Cybertron, the other Avengers in New York, and Ratchet away with Jane at a medical conference in Houston, they were the only two left in Hangar E. They'd insisted on coming back to Earth with him so they could see their human friends again. Perhaps that was for the best. Hawkeye wasn't there as of now to egg Smokescreen and Miko on, so there was little risk of trouble arising in the meantime.

"Captain?"

Rogers looked over at the tall blue and red Autobot, one eyebrow rising as his occupied arm fell. "Yeah? Something wrong?"

But Optimus said nothing. He merely looked at the soldier with a grave look deep in his blue optics. Steve wasn't quite sure what to make of that look, but it gave him the chills and made his heart drop like a lead weight in his chest. Giving Banner a pat on his shoulder and word of encouragement, the soldier rose. The three children watched in amazement as he forewent the stairs entirely and outright vaulted over the railings, falling to the floor like a gymnast gone mad. He oriented the shield beneath his feet to act as a shock absorber and landed in a smooth roll.

"Couldn't you just take the stairs like a normal person you star-spangled show off?" Miko laughed.

The soldier looked up at her with a smirk and a twinkle in his crisp blue eyes before walking towards the towering blue and red titan near the console. Before he even reached him, Optimus turned about and slowly walked outside. Tony trailed by the side of his helm, silent but eager. Finally, at last, he was going to get an answer to the questions that had been nagging him now for months.

* * *

Optimus led them away from Hangar E. He wanted to be as far away from the hangar as possible to prevent eavesdropping, but also close enough to intervene should Miko or Smokescreen instigate something that required rapid intervention. Thus, he chose the empty strip of tarmac west of the hangar. From its appearance it was rarely used, ensuring privacy, and since it was out in the open he could spot someone approaching from quite a distance.

But he forestalled answering right away. Frankly he wasn't quite sure how to word this. Outright saying it seemed far too blunt for his tastes, and yet on the other hand skirting the issue would only annoy Tony. So how to start this, and more importantly – how to explain it? Could he...? Ah. That might work. Yes, that might work. The Avengers had searched for him and his team, and they'd always wondered where he and Smokescreen had vanished. Smokescreen surprisingly had said very little about where he had passed his absence, and Clint had not pushed him for answers like he usually did.

"You recall the destruction of Omega One? And you recall the ensuing flight to escape capture?"

Both men nodded. They remembered that. Seeing the old base as a smoldering, flaming wreck of ruins had very nearly broken Wasp's heart. It had also nearly driven Thor and Hulk into a murderous rampage. If not for him, Steve, Vision, and Hank holding the brawlers back a catastrophe might've occurred. Those two didn't do restraint when they were pissed enough, and blowing up their friends' base had understandably pissed them off.

"Did Jackson tell you that I stayed behind to destroy the groundbridge?"

Two sets of eyes went round and two mouths opened slightly.

"You did what?!" Tony snapped. "And here I thought Steve was crazier than a loon!"

Optimus stemmed the tirade with a hand, explaining slowly and succinctly:

"I did so in order to prevent the Decepticons from using the last input coordinates to follow my team. You built a groundbridge, Stark. You know that the last few sets of coordinates input are stored in the hard memory. If I had left it undamaged they could have easily backtracked, found the chosen locations, followed them through and killed them. And it worked. Scattered though they were, I knew they would regroup in time – and that Agent Fowler and Director Fury would inform you of the attack, securing your aid. Can you deny that it worked, Stark, dangerous though it was?"

Tony's previously wide eyes narrowed a little back towards normal behind his mask. "No..."

"But Omega One was nothing but a pile of rubble!" Steve argued. "How in God's name did you survive the blast? It leveled an entire mesa!"

The oddly grave look returned to the Prime's optics, even more pronounced than before. Captain Rogers and Tony internally shivered at it. They didn't like that look. And they liked what Optimus said next even less:

"What makes you think I survived, Captain?"

His tone as he had said that single sentence was distant, his voice nothing more than a soft murmur. That look in his optics then as he gazed up at the late morning skies was of someone who could see something no one else could. Something beautiful, alluring, waiting for them just out of easy reach. But also terrifying to those not ready to see it.

Steve blinked once, shaking his head in disbelief. Had he misheard? Had Optimus just said he _hadn't_ survived the blast? That didn't make any sense! He was standing right here being questioned by Tony! And Cybertronian souls were always transparent, yet Optimus was as solid and corporeal as he was. Hell, he'd seem them, seen the dead aliens in Nifelheim over a year and a half ago! He couldn't possibly be implying he was one of them now, could he? There was no way!

"But...how...what?" Tony stammered less than a second before his friend could. "W-What do you mean?"

"The destruction of the groundbridge was an unavoidably messy affair. The Star Saber's energy reacted violently with the Energon coursing through the feed cables, resulting in an explosion. That in itself was not fatal, but it did result in a few injuries. I could have left then, though I would have been at great risk regardless of whether or not I was outside Omega One or not. Fate and Luck can be fickle mistresses however, and its destruction coincided with the impact of Megatron's weapon. I barely had time to react, much less make it out and to a safe distance. All I remember was a flash, an explosion, fire engulfing me as debris buried me. Then...nothing. Nothing but darkness." His optics closed and his helm shook as he let out a sigh. "I would have been content with that – a quick death. That is more than most in the War ever had. I would not have fought. I was so tired...In truth, I still am."

While unable to see Iron Man's face due to his helm hiding it, he did see Captain Rogers's. His expression was one of deep sadness, pity, and understanding. There was even a minuscule little smile on his lips that urged the Prime to continue. Finding someone not afraid to die, someone who would welcome the release it brought when Death came for them, was no easy feat.

"I awoke later on in a cavern, unaware of how I had arrived there. I heard someone come then. I could barely see out of my damaged optics. For a brief moment I thought I was already dead and that this was my guide, but the voice it had was easily recognizable: Smokescreen."

"Smokescreen saved your life?" Steve and Tony asked together.

"Yes and no. He apparently refused to listen to my orders and went back through the groundbridge before it closed forever. He found me in the wreckage and dragged me underground with the help of the Phase Shifter. But he admitted he was no healer, and the excursion from which he had returned had been searching for medical supplies in the ruins that may have survived the blast. He found none. I knew he wouldn't simply leave if I told him to, so I gave him another mission: sneak into Darkmount and find the Forge of Solus Prime. I let him make his own assumptions as to what I wanted it for."

"What _did_ you want you it for? You clearly didn't want it for yourself." the soldier guessed astutely.

The Prime shook his helm slowly. "No. It was not intended for me. It was for Smokescreen himself."

Behind his mask, Tony stared at him, confused and a little alarmed. Steve's expression was no different. Comprehension looked to be slowly dawning in his blue eyes, a comprehension mingled with horror and pain.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. But The Forge is a Prime relic. You can't really use it unless you've got the Matrix. Ratchet told me so. Otherwise the thing's just a really big, really fancy hammer. And obviously you could no longer use it by the time you brought it to the hangar. I heard you mention to Magnus then that the thing was devoid of energy. So _somebody_ used it, and there is no way in hell I'm believin' it was you – you could barely move you were so hurt!"

Optimus lifted a hand to silence the inventor. He understood the confusion he said. If allowed to explain, he would. He wanted answers about the upgrades and so answers he would get. And so Tony fell silent.

"As I said, I let Smokescreen make his own assumptions as to what I wanted it for. It was...simpler that way. Less of a chance of him fighting me. But when he returned with it I was forced to clarify. I had to tell him that it was not for me – more specifically he was not to use it to repair me. He was to use it on the Omega Lock. The Forge only had one powerful charge left. One life is a small price to pay in return for saving an entire race from extinction. If that life had to be mine...then so be it."

"But without a Prime...doesn't Cybertron die?" Tony wondered softly.

"There would be another to carry that burden. The decision had already been made, and it was not truly mine to make. I told him so. He didn't seem to understand at first, so I was forced to clarify further with what little strength I had left: that he was the one it had chosen. He was the next Prime, the one to take my place."

Here he paused for so long that they thought the story was over, but that was too much of a cliffhanger and he had yet to explain the upgrades. Perhaps he was just giving them time to process it, to come to terms with the information. It was rather ground shaking after all.

"He was scared, argued with me that he hadn't nearly the experience or preparation to take on such a hefty responsibility. I felt the argument valid. I...I would have explained further, or reassured his doubts, encouraged him even, but...I...heard someone calling me then. I did not have the strength to keep resisting. And frankly...I did not want to. I felt I had fought long enough – _suffered_ through enough." He sighed. His narrative broke for a moment:

"Stark, you have no idea how many soldiers, how many friends I have watched die over the centuries. Many of them I have held in their last moment, comforting them the best I could before letting them go. You have no idea how many bond-mates I have been forced to inform – and confirm – that their love was not coming back. You have no idea how many mechs and femmes no older than Smokescreen I have been forced to bury. That is...is too much to ask a single mech to bear, even a Prime. Too much guilt. Too much pain..."

Steve approached silently and laid a hand on the titan's heel strut. He sounded on the verge of tears. This only confirmed his belief that this mech was far too gentle to fight. Throw him into a brutal civil war seemingly without end in sight, with a former friend at the head of the enemy – he was bound to snap eventually. Even the strongest of wills broke under enough emotional pressure, and it sounded like he'd hit that threshold a long time ago.

"And the voice agreed. Thus...I let it take me. I let it take me away, somewhere else. Somewhere away from the pain. Everything went black then. But I could still hear Smokescreen trying to get me to focus on him, so I knew I was not entirely dead yet. No, this was some sort of...vision. An in-between state. The owner of the voice appeared then: Alpha Trion. I...had my suspicions that he had not survived the fall of Iacon. It appeared I was right."

"An NDE." the soldier at his pede murmured.

"Pardon?"

"You had an NDE – a Near Death Experience. Humans get them, too. Supposedly they're one of the oddities of the cosmic entity called Death or Mistress Death. Not everyone gets them, and each one's different, but a lot of the times a friend or loved one who died prior appears and speaks to them. Comforts them. Convinces them it's alright to let go. The game _Murdered: Soul Suspect_ shows that pretty well, even though the premise is a little different there. Not a bad video game. Watched Clint and Jan play through it over a few days. Interesting story. Think the demons nearly gave Jan a heart attack when they first showed. Only time I've heard her scream and squeak at the same time."

He paused, smiling a little as he remembered the odd sound and the interactions that followed. Then: "Is that what happened with you?"

"Yes." Just the monosyllable.

"And did you accept?"

Another very long, hesitant pause. He was unable to meet the soldier's eyes when he repeated the monosyllable: "...Yes."

Behind his mask, Tony's jaw dropped in undisguised shock. "Oh...Oh my God. But...you're standing right here. S-So _something_ happened. What went wrong? Did the big guy show up and drag you back by your ankles?"

The Prime's voice was so soft that they barely heard it:

"Nothing went wrong. I admit I did hesitate for a moment. Something about the interaction simply did not feel right, but I hadn't the faintest idea what. I suspect I never will know. Some questions are destined to remain without answer. But no, nothing went wrong. I accepted his hand and...went offline. Merged with the Allspark. I thought that was it. Once you merge, there is no returning to the living. That is a rule even a Prime must abide by."

A faint, melancholy smile formed. His time there, though brief in the extreme, had been wonderful beyond description. He had found himself in a beautiful city with opal-lined streets and shining buildings, soft golden light pervading the air. Countless fallen friends, Ironhide among them, had swarmed him with joyous cries. He had been a little surprised to see Dreadwing there, at the side of his twin Skyquake, the darker Seeker giving him a silent nod. Primus himself had even appeared, welcoming him with open arms and a great laugh before nearly crushing him in an embrace, his light soaking into him and soothing his aching spark.

' _Welcome home, my faithful one._ ' the kindly deity had said.

Never, never had he felt so happy, so content. He had found in death what life had so determinedly yanked from him again and again and again. A part of him had wondered how Elita would take losing him, but he assured himself she was strong. She would carry on. He would watch over her until it was her time to join him. But deep down, some part of him felt that something about the interactions and the afterworld wasn't quite right.

And then that moment had ended.

He paused once more. Then he continued:

"Something...happened. It felt like...burning claws of energy grabbed hold of me, ripping me away, dragging me back. Painful though it was, all of my doubts, my reserve about the interaction came flooding back. And with it came my resolve. Giving up was not an option, not now. I had friends – _family_ – who were counting on me, and I could _not_ let them down. A question came then, but it seemed to stem from someone else: Was I really going to let Megatron win? My answer: No. And without warning, I awoke in the frame you see now. Smokescreen was there looking consciously guilty. The Forge lay off the one side. I knew what had happened then, but I was not cross with him. I thanked him instead for reminding me what I was really fighting for. You know the rest. And that is your answer Stark. That is why I look the way I do. I was reforged, my spark re-ignited by a boy desperate to save his hero."

Tony's helmeted head nodded once. He thanked him for the honest answer to his question. But before he flew off he offered a light touch of his gauntleted hand to the Prime's shoulder.

* * *

Optimus tried to encourage the other human to rejoin his friend, but Captain Rogers refused to leave the Prime's side. They simply stayed out there on the tarmac in amiable silence as the soldier mulled over fully the revelations. What he had gone through, both in the distant past and more recent past, was something no one as gentle and kind as he was should ever have to endure. Powerful as he was, he was no warrior. The Prime was a peacemaker.

And he remembered something else, something he alone appeared to have noticed and that further cemented his belief. While everyone else had been celebrating the end of the War and the death of Megatron, Optimus had stayed off to the side. Despite the occasional warm smile that would flicker in and out on watching the antics of the Avengers, the teens, his Autobots, and Ghost Recon, there had been a deep, aching sadness in his optics. The others had celebrated the defeat of a murdering tyrant; he had mourned the death of a one-time friend. The War was over now though, and the pain would slow. It wouldn't go away, but it would hopefully lessen. Optimus had seen, had visited the land of the dead. He had a feeling the Prime knew where Megatron was now. There, the warlord might be able to heal.

But Smokescreen? He shook his head unconsciously. Geez. Talk about a nasty shock. Having to watch your hero die in front of your eyes was a nightmare no one wanted to become real. He'd been forced to live that nightmare. No wonder he'd been so antsy and nervous when he'd found him out here after Darkmount. The poor kid had practically been suffering from temporary post-traumatic stress disorder.

"So that's why he asked me that question..." Steve realized.

The Prime eyed him curiously. "Who asked you what?"

"Smokescreen. I found him out here on the tarmac with a bad case of the jitters. I asked him what was wrong, and well – the reason I'm not surprised about what you've told us is that he kind of forewarned me that you'd been fatally hurt. But he asked me a bit suddenly whether or not I thought some people were meant to lead and others just...weren't."

"And what did you tell him?"

Steve smiled faintly as he said: "I gave him an honest answer. I told him anyone could be a leader if they tried. I said that you don't become a good leader overnight; that it takes time, practice, and patience to make a good leader. What I neglected to tell him is that a _great_ leader needs _heart_. I get why you picked him now. He's young, but he's definitely got that heart. I just don't think he was ready when you dropped the ball on him. Give him a little time and bit more of a heads up and I think he won't react as badly. Take him under your wing if you have to – teach him the ins and outs."

Optimus nodded slowly.

"Erskine had a saying, Prime: 'It's better to be half ready than not ready at all.' Better to teach him _something_ than leave the poor kid blind as a bat with no clue what on Earth he's supposed to do." the soldier added. "And I've got my saying: 'You can throw a Warren off a cliff and expect him to fly, but you can't throw a Ben Grimm and expect the same result.' "

The Prime smiled. A faint chuckle escaped his vocalizer. "Very well, Captain."

The two war veterans fell silent, each enjoying the fact the other understood.

* * *

 _12 HOURS LATER  
WELL OF ALLSPARKS, CYBERTRON_

Smokescreen always felt a little awkward when he neared the massive life-spring. He always felt like the now conscious entity at the bottom was watching him closely. Not in a malevolent way or anything – just observing, kinda like the harmless way a human watched birds through a pair of binoculars. There was no intent to disturb. He had a feeling it was just him, as no one else complained about a similar "felt-like-someone's-watching-me" sense. But still. He always tried to skirt around it when he could.

Today though? His curiosity had gotten the better of him. Going with the bird-watching analogy, sometimes the human got just a little too close, made a little too much movement, or made a little too much noise. So the bird would flee. But he wasn't like the bird. He chose not to flee. He wanted an explanation. And to do that, he had to get a bit closer.

He inched forward half a step until he was right on the rim. The youngling peered down into the gaping, dry life-spring and nearly suffered a case of vertigo. It went down so far that you couldn't even see the bottom. That was a slagged long drop...but right at the bottom he could see a faint blue-white glow peeking out of the gloom, like a twinkling eye. The vertigo seemed to correct itself without reason, and the sense of being harmlessly observed came back stronger than before.

Welp. He was here. And the nightlight knew he was there. Might as well give it a shot.

"Uh...h-hello? Hello? Testing, testing, one, two, three. Can anyone hear me down there? Helloooo?"

No response other than an echo of his own voice. He cringed a little at how silly he'd just sounded. This was a cosmic entity he was trying to talk to, not Clint or Jan or Miko. Not exactly the best first impression out there. The youngling smacked a hand to his faceplates out of embarrassment. So much for that. Besides, maybe he was, like, sleeping or something? If so then he was disturbing him, so maybe he just...go. He could do this some other time. Totally. Definitely.

He was just about to walk away when he felt...something. It felt like a tiny, itty-bitty tendril wrap around his spark. Then the tip connected, just barely touching the surface of his life force. He didn't know what this was all about or what the scrap was going on, but he tried again. Maybe it was another dead end and he'd get no answer...but better to be sure than to keep guessing. Alpha Trion had taught him that much.

"H-Hello?"

' _Hello, Smokescreen._ '

"GAH!"

He jerked back so quickly that he lost his footing and fell. Even then, he still skirted away, blue optics wide. It was all he could do to keep from hyperventilating.

' _My apologies. I thought you wanted to discuss something with me?_ '

"I wasn't expecting you to answer!" he practically shouted, gesticulating wildly.

Gentle laughter echoed inside his mind and the voice spoke once more: ' _Forgive me. Frightening was not my intention._ _'_

Smokescreen heaved a sigh. The shock was beginning to die down now, and his stiff frame was beginning to loosen up back to normal. But slag him to the Pit if that hadn't nearly given him a spark attack. Seriously. Talk about a jump start. He felt the little tendril transmit raw data to him then, coupled with another soft chuckle. He knew then that this unintentional scare wouldn't happen again. He would receive a bit more warning in the future. But the other presence sensed that a casual chat was not why he was here.

Unconsciously he oriented himself into a more comfortable position. He lay flat on his chestplates, letting his legs stretch out behind him. He folded his arms in front of him and then rested his chin on them. He didn't really know why, but talking to him like this he felt was alright. The deity wasn't stern at all. It wasn't like he was demanding he kneel or something. In fact, just going by this interaction alone, he was incredibly casual and laid back in his interaction. It was more like talking to Optimus instead of Ultra Magnus.

He'd read stories in the Hall of Records detailing interactions with Primus, but to have one himself...it was enough to leave him more than a little awed. This was the sort of thing Optimus had had during the War and even before it – a thing practically no one else had had and was only just now surfacing again. Was he the first one of Team Prime to talk to him? Kinda cool if so.

He let out a sigh, realizing he was avoiding the subject at hand. For a while he didn't say anything, but he didn't feel under any pressure to come out with his question right away. He could take as long as he needed to. Another pulse of data coupled with a touch of reassurance by the weird little tendril thing reinforced that sense. At long last he worked up the courage. Might as well spit it out.

"Why me?"

A tiny pulse of surprise that didn't belong to him. Was that what bothered him – not understanding why the Matrix had chosen him? That was the source of his troubled spark?

"I know, I know. It sounds really stupid of me to ask this. It's something I should've figured out ages ago, huh?"

' _On the contrary. Oftentimes the simplest of questions can be the most difficult to answer. And there is no such thing as a stupid question, child. After all: "He who asks a question remains a fool for a minute. He who never asks remains a fool forever," hm?_ '

Smokescreen managed a tiny laugh at that. He'd stolen that from the humans. The entity laughed back in that same gentle manner as before.

"Seriously though, why me? Why not – I dunno, 'Bee or Magnus or-or Arcee even? Why me? What makes me so different?"

' _Tell me, what is the one thing you are persistently good at?_ '

"...Uh...ignoring the rules?" he hazarded. "Annoying Ratchet? Ticking off Arcee by accident? Nearly making June want to murder me? I can keep going."

Another round of gentle laughter. He felt the little tendril wrap around a little tighter almost like it was hugging his spark, and a wash of compassion swept over him. For the first time he realized the tendril was warm. It felt like a little scarf of love had encircled his life force. For a brief second or two he simply shut his optics and drank in the odd but relaxing sensation, smiling a little to himself. Then the entity spoke again:

' _You are persistently good at listening to your spark. Using your processor is all well and good, but decisions should not solely be made by the mind. It was not your mind that made you disobey Optimus and return for him – that was a decision you made with your spark. Your spark would not allow someone to die alone or die at all. You were not about to let him sacrifice himself. Arcee, Ultra Magnus, and Bumblebee respected him too much to disobey his orders. You respect him as well, yet you did. You knew in the end that what you were doing was against orders, but you knew as well it was the right thing to do._ '

"So...you picked me because I'm horrible at taking orders?"

' _No, no. I chose you because of your spark. I chose you because of your loyalty and your courage. I chose you because you do what is right, not what is expected of you. I chose you because you try your hardest to keep those around you smiling and laughing. I chose you because you refuse to surrender the light of hope no matter how dark it becomes. Those are the traits I look for in a Prime. Do you understand now, child?_ '

Smokescreen slowly nodded. He rose, feeling the little tendril scarf of kindness and love loosen. But it did not disconnect, not entirely.

He started to walk away, but after a dozen or so paces he paused mid-step. He turned back.

"Hey, Primus?"

' _Yes?_ '

He smiled: "...Thanks. For answering."

' _Of course. Now, go on before Ultra Magnus starts worrying about you. He assigned you to a scouting mission with Bumblebee, did he not? Best not keep him waiting._ '

His optics snapped wide. "Oh scrap! I totally forgot! Oh, Magnus is gonna kill me! Scrap, scrap! I'm so dead!"

Transforming, he sped off into the distance in a squealing of tires.

* * *

 **Alright, I know Galv is with the X-Men right now, but this is a story I've been meaning to write for a while. As the little note says, this takes place soon after the battle for the Nemesis, before Megatron was resurrected. As such, Galvatron doesn't even exist yet.**


End file.
